Never Want to See You Unhappy
by theimpossibleispossible
Summary: Both are afraid of getting hurt, but neither one of them wants to see the other unhappy. Though at first everything is subtle it soon escalates to be something radical and unfamiliar.
1. No More Words, Just Drinks, Please

This wasn't her first time sitting alone at the bar, anxiously waiting for either Jane, Reade or Patterson to arrive late. She kept picturing either one of them begging for forgiveness as they sat in the seat next to her. Her mind seemed to be flooded with many thoughts now that she was trying to avoid betting and gambling. That she did her best to tuck it away in the back of her head and avoid completely.

Looking at her phone she kept clicking on the conversations with Patterson, Jane and Reade, hoping that the tiny gray bubble with the ellipses would appear. Every time she saw that little tiny bubble she would feel a little rush of adrenaline running through her body. On occasion, that rush of adrenaline would convert itself into an anxiety. So as she waited for a gray bubble to appear she told herself: _You could message both of them again, and just say that your connection was spotty so you weren't sure if they got the message. Or you could ask simply send a question mark. No, no, no. You'd sound needy._

Without really thinking about she felt as her fingers glided over the keyboard to send a sole question mark to Patterson. _No... Great self-control, Tash. Can see why gambling took over your life._ She hated when her thoughts went dark or crossed the thin line between good and bad. Very often, a few negative phrases escalated into the dark hole that was ever so difficult to climb out of. For a while, she was good at avoiding that place, but lately, it was a place she was constantly in. She knew that getting comfortable in that dark place would be tragic given her personality. That is why she more than ever tried being a little more social with everyone at work. She opened up a bit more to Reade and started inviting Jane or Patterson for drinks much more often. She avoided time being alone with her thoughts and distracted herself with other things. Most of the time it was by drinking, and if not that then running. She supposed that there was a balance between the both.

When she heard the acute sharp ding sound, she quickly glanced at her phone to see who it was. Such ding reminded her that she really needed to change the tone of her notifications. Whenever she heard it too constantly she would end up with a headache and it only made her migraines worse.

 **Patterson: ?**

 **Patterson: Question mark to you too, Tasha.**

Tasha's head went back an inch, she was not expecting such response. Confused, she decided to psychoanalyze the previous messages. As she Looked back she noticed that Patterson had not received the previous message. _Great._

 **Tasha: I'm at the bar, the usual one. You busy?**

It had not been more than a minute since she had just sent out the message when she saw the little gray bubble with the ellipses moving. _Yes._ Patterson was typing. Her pupils were well dilated waiting for Patterson's message to go through.

 **Patterson: OMW**

 **Patterson: On my way.**

 **Patterson: It auto-abbreviated. See you in ten, Tash?**

She nodded and smiled with a little extra joy, just like she did when she was ten and beat her older brother at video games. Tasha was content because Patterson's presence aside from being a good one and one that she had grown fond of ever so more recently also meant that she did not have to drink alone. Looking back at the text conservation she registered that her smart cheeky nerdy coworker had called her Tash. Not many people called her Tash. Tasha knew that she was getting comfortable around her, but she wasn't sure that Patterson was getting comfortable around her too. Being a little too excited about having a drinking buddy for the night made her almost forget to reply.

 **Tasha: Yes. Don't forget your card, Patt?**

 **Patterson: *Patterson.**

She covered her face as she saw Patterson's text message, and then she groaned so loudly that the bartender had to ask her if she was okay. _Shit, fuck, shit._ She felt a little embarrassed for having the prudence of giving Patterson a nickname. It was her fault for getting too comfortable, too soon. After taking a deep breath she told herself not to worry much. Therefore, she nodded the incident away and ordered another drink.

After thinking about it, and not being sure what Patterson would want to drink she ordered another bourbon. It was not that she was impatient and out of urge ordered a drink for Patterson, but rather according to their unexpected plans Patterson should have already been there five minutes ago, so she assumed that she would be there any minute. When the bartender placed Patterson's drink next to hers she turned around towards the door to check if a blonde smart-ass gal was anywhere to be seen, but the door was shut and there was no Patterson in sight.

It wasn't a while later until Patterson prodded Tasha's shoulder with her finger. Not expecting such greeting, Tasha almost jolted out of her seat. Glancing up at Patterson, who had an awkward smile decorating her face, Tasha's eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed. "You're late." She announced as she put her hand on top of the seat where Patterson was about to sit. "Your drink melted. You made me waste nine dollars on some classy bourbon that is now diluted."

She could tell that Patterson felt either guilty or bad, maybe even both. "New York traffic." Patterson tried to ease the situation and optimistically try to use that as an excuse. Traffic in New York was probably the biggest horror of living in the city, aside from the expensive rent. Patterson pointed to her hand, "Now, common, let me sit." Tasha's glare was no longer stern, but exuberant. The little smile that seemed to creep from the corner of her lips was quickly sedated by Tasha's efforts to remain the ambient uneasy. She could tell Patterson wanted to sit, but her hand was prohibiting her from doing so. "I'll sit on it..." Patterson warned and teased.

"I don't wanna touch your butt, Patterson" Tasha whined as she fake-cringed her face.

Patterson nodded, "I know." She waited, but nothing. "Tasha, please. I mean, unless you secretly want me to sit on your hand so that you can touch my ass. You wanna touch my ass, Zapata?" Hearing her say that, she quickly and in fear took her hand off of the seat and watched as Patterson pridefully took a seat. She then ensured to note: "Thank you." Reaching to take a drink of the bourbon she taunted, "I don't mind watered down drinks." She took a sip and cringed, "Okay, maybe I do." Tasha laughed enthusiastically and ensured that Patterson heard every syllable.

"Just drink your drink," Tasha begged. "Patt..."

"Noo… Patterson." She corrected the agent with the messy hair as she grasped her shoulder lightly, "Patt reminds me of an old lady or man." Tasha smiled and did her best not to concentrate that much on Patterson's hand. She wasn't used to human contact, and being isolated and secluded from other human beings, despite work, made Patterson touching her awkward. Tasha tried not to glance down at her shoulder that much, but every second that went on she felt a burning sensation grow more and more, the longer Patterson kept her hand on her shoulder. _It's just a hand, nothing more._ On the other hand, Patterson had no idea that her hand was on Tasha's shoulder.

When Tasha's shoulder was finally clear of Patterson's grip, she couldn't help but to furrow her eyebrows when contemplating the possible reasons as to why Patterson had grabbed her shoulder like that. Lost in her trance of thought, it was Patterson clearing her throat that brought her back into reality. Unsure of what to do or say she randomly came up with a suggestion. "You wanna see if the bartender will get you a fresher drink?"

"Yeah, I mean I can drink this, but if I can get something with less water and a higher concentration of alcohol, that would be much better." Her eyebrows were raised high in excitement. Patterson loved hanging out with Tasha, she was one of the few chill people still alive. After waiting for the bartender to come over, they gave up and signaled him over. The bartender, being a kind guy and knowing who they were and how loyal they the bar, agreed to exchange the drink for a much fresher one. Both women were surprised that he agreed to do such a thing. They smiled flirtatiously as he brought Patterson a fresher drink. When he was finally gone they dropped the act and looked over at Patterson's new drink. She drank in approval.

"Which one of us is getting drunk and who will be the babysitter?" Tasha spoke as she placed her lip on the rim of her glass which was decoratively covered with sugar.

Patterson reached out for her drink. She took a small sip and then cleared her throat. "Well, Tasha. We could always flip a coin." She noticed how her suggestion was not taken easily by Tasha. One of the perks about hanging around Tasha was that she was real and honest with her. Though sometimes she was a tee bit too brutal honesty.

Tasha chuckled, but before she could say anything more she licked her lips clean from the sugar. "With what coin?" Tasha dramatically put her hands into her blazer in search of a coin. As her hands came out empty she sighed. "All I have is plastic." She teased moving her credit card around and then fanning herself with it.

"Very funny. All I have is my phone and that wallet app."

Not being able to decide they both tilted their glasses; their bottoms up. They drank in silence, but that was a lie. The music was loud and explosive, and there was the constant hum of the machines dispensing alcohol. But in their silence all these things were ignored, just like the constant laughter and footsteps of the people who were there to have a good time. In their silence, there was only the other and the drink in front of them, because what more could they ask for?

Tasha knew exactly what though. In the back of her mind or in the bottom of her heart, she longed for happiness. More discretely and less thought about, she longed for love. The type of unconditional and artificial love that she saw on Spanish soap operas, movies and books. It was hard, sitting there at age thirty-one and feel on top of the world when every day felt the same as the last. Realizing that nothing was going right or as planned made her more upset. That's why, when Patterson glanced over at Tasha. She saw a Tasha unlike no other. Her shoulders were loose and her eyes an ambiguous gloom. It was as if a huge metal shield of armor had collapsed and she was finally allowed to have feelings. She didn't like seeing people upset, and usually, she was great and helping people out. Yet, she didn't know where to start with Tasha. Knowing that both of them had endured so much the past year in the FBI, she couldn't blame her for finally taking her guard down. Especially not after the tremendous case they had just had. At times, Patterson wondered how they managed to get through cases without any major breakdowns. Though Patterson didn't know what was up with Tasha, she knew enough to infer that it could be anything from her unorthodox upbringing to the horrendous day at work.

"What?" Tasha asked defensively as she saw how Patterson was looking at her, "Don't look at me like that, Patterson, that's not why I asked you out for a drink." Her words sounded stale.

Patterson nodded, "I know..." she admitted in a voice that sounded foreign to Zapata. Tasha looked down at her drink, but before she could submerge herself in her thought processes Patterson grabbed her hand. "But is it going to be okay?" She didn't need to look up to see the concern written on Patterson's face because it was visibly stitched into every chord that came out of her throat. "Is it because of what happened today?" Patterson squeezed a little tighter, "If so, we can talk about it if you want."

"No." She tried to smile, hating herself for making Patterson concerned in the first place. The last thing she wanted was to make a pity party scene in front of Patterson. They were supposed to be half drunk and having fun, not engaging in a dreaded conversation. She most likely had other things to deal with, no need to add herself to that list. "It's not because of work."

"Life in general?" Patterson asked. She squeezed tighter as if doing so was going to give her all the answer she was looking for.

Tasha didn't know what to say, so she managed to force another smile and nod.

Patterson lets go of her hand for fear of making Tasha's hand permanently blue. She now knew and understood that she didn't want to talk about, she simply wanted to forget and put everything away, at least for a moment. Patterson didn't blame her. It was then when Tasha finally glanced up, and Patterson easily read that there was still hurt still inside of her, even if there was a well-painted smile. "Let's both get drunk." And so they raised their glasses to that.

AN: Let me know what you think :)


	2. Is She Drunk Or Not?

Her eyes reflected the golden glory running down her throat, the bubbly river of alcohol that burned not only the tissue it touched but also all the things she kept hidden inside her. The drink was liberating and the rush ever so necessary. It had been a horrible day and she didn't want to dwell or ponder on the days events. Her tender pink lips were still stuck to the rim of the glass. She wasn't sure if she was already feeling the effect of the drink she had earlier or if she was being deceived by the setting, the lights, and the company. She was lost in the buzz, either real or made up, that she didn't notice Patterson. The smart white girl was tentatively analyzing her and she was waiting for her to say something, anything. Her mouth was getting dry, so her hand went up and the bartender asked her what she wanted.

"Is it not clear?" Tasha asked, her judging eyes glancing at the young man. "Another bourbon… No, no, no, make that two. Two bourbons, and cut the ice." Patterson hid her face until the bartender walked away. "What?" Tasha turned over to look at Patterson.

"You didn't have to be so mean." Patterson massaged her neck with her hands. "He's just trying to do his job." Tasha's face furrowed, Patterson was defending the bartender.

Tasha pulled her hair back and tied it with the black hair tie from her wrist. After fixing her dark brown hair into a beyond messy ponytail, she went ahead took the drink that was in front of her. "I know. I've just had a bad day." Patterson shook her head.

She didn't want to bring it up again, but she felt like she had too. "Was it because of the case?" She saw as Tasha's lip began to quiver. "Tasha, did you-"

"Stop." Tasha interrupted her, she sounded defensive. "I don't want to talk about it, Patterson. You don't get it. You'd never get it. You don't know what it's like to have no choice or say when it comes to this. You've pro-" She stopped herself, a little late, but she retained herself from saying anything more. Her pretty mouth was shut, and Patterson's was wide opened.

Patterson bit one side of her lip, her teeth threatening to pierce a hole. She grabbed the drink next to Tasha's and gulped half of it down. "Okay, I get it." She grasped on to her drink tighter, "I'm not going to force you to talk about something that you don't want to." Patterson noticed as Tasha glanced her way. The relief on her face was a sight to see, her face wasn't contorted and she didn't give off that tense vibe. "Just," Patterson knew she shouldn't have said anything else because Tasha was already rolling her eyes. "know that you can talk to me. We're family, remember?"

She didn't know what to say, Patterson was being so kind and offering her a vehicle to which export all her feelings and words, and she was being rude or a jerk about it. Tasha took the drink in her hand again, took a few gulps and thanked her.

As they finished their third drink, or at least the ones that they had shared together, Patterson noticed that Tasha was much more relaxed and that the alcohol was finally doing its job. Tasha kept swaying back and forth in her seat, the biggest smile on her face. "You having fun there?"

"Yes," Tasha answered, her voice sounding so soothing and pleasant. "I think this song is my new favorite song. It just has some good tunes."

Patterson did her best not to laugh because her intuition told her Tasha was being serious, "This is a commercial."

"You're right." Tasha seemed a little frightened by the idea that she was getting down to a commercial. Patterson nodded, of course, she was right. She was always right. "Well..." She started but never finished. Instead, she grabbed her drink and called the bartender for more. She wasn't so sure she wanted another bourbon or margarita, but she knew that if she ordered something else, she would be mezclando sus bebidas ((mixing her drinks)) and therefore have one of the worst hangovers of her life. "A tequila, please."

The bartender looked at Patterson, "And, for you?"

She glanced at her coworker, her body moving side to side on the chair, she looked to be having fun in her own drunken way. They hadn't decided earlier who would be the adult and sit out after three drinks, and since Tasha was already past her fourth drink and seemed to have gone through an even more emotional straining day at work, she decided to sit out on another drink. "Do you guys have any food?"

"Yeah," He grabbed a menu and handed it to Patterson, "Call me over when you're ready."

"You're calling it quits already?" Tasha swung her whole seat over just to look at Patterson. "Does that mean I can get drunk off my ass?"

Patterson's head moved a little back, "Just don't over do it, remember we have that meeting at noon tomorrow."

Tasha shook her head, "No we don't. We don't go in this Saturday, Patterson."

Patterson laughed, "I mean the meeting that we're not supposed to have?" Tasha seemed so confused, Patterson thought it was adorable, though. The way Tasha seemed to be lost and have no idea what she was talking about. In her expression, she looked scared even. "Tash, the one with Reade, you and me. We decided to meet up for lunch at my place to discuss...mmmhhhmmhhh" Patterson hummed the last part, knowing not to talk about those documents in public nor in the office.

Tasha laughed, "You mean-" Patterson got up quick to cover Tasha's mouth, her hand over her face. Tasha begged her to stop, with her eyes, and she kept on mumbling to Patterson's hand, her soft warm hand. Patterson finally lets go. "I was just going to say the one were not allowed to talk about at all." Tasha's eyes were looking right into Patterson's, they were filled with fury.

Patterson went back to her seat, "Sorry, Tash." Tasha was glaring at her, and instead of saying anything else she picked up the menu and submerged herself into it, in hope that it would reduce the guilt and glare that her fellow FBI agent was giving her. Patterson though wanted to concentrate on the appetizing chili fries, her mind couldn't help but think about how sexy Tasha looked when mad. _It's just Tasha, mad, yeah, maybe a little angry, but why do I think it's so hot?_

The bartender came back, and Tasha was flirting, "Thanks, Diego." _Ohh my god, not again._ "I guess I'm just going to have leave a big tip." He laughed and nodded, I guess it was sort of routine to him.

"You need a little more time?" Patterson glanced up from the menu.

"No, I think I'll have the fries and the small mild wings, please and thank you."

Tasha basically ate all of Patterson's fries, but Patterson refrained herself from saying anything. Tasha ordered two more drinks and eventually their friend, Diego, did not feel comfortable selling Tasha another drink. Patterson didn't blame him, she was, in fact, being a lousy drunk. When it was time to go, Patterson had some trouble getting Tasha to leave, but when she finally got her on her feet the bartender gave Patterson the bill. Patterson was confused on why she was charged one hundred and seven dollars with fifty-three cents. Diego said Tasha's card wasn't going through. Patterson sighed and then continued to pay the fee.

On the way to the cab, she kept touching Tasha's waist to keep her in place, and from straying away. It wasn't awkward being this close to her coworker, it was just different. She looked down to check on the shorter woman who made herself comfortable on her shoulder. _Aww, Tash._ Eventually, they made it to the cab. Tasha went in first, and then Patterson. Tasha didn't bother to put on a seat belt so that eventually became Patterson's job. "You have to put it on, Tasha."

Tasha only shrugged Patterson's comment off and put her hands on her stomach, "I, I don't feel well, Pat- Pat." Patterson quickly gave the address to Tasha's place and searched for Tasha's keys in her pockets. "You feeling me?" Tasha commented as Patterson stuck her hand in each of her pockets. Patterson smirked, and continued to search for her keys in her blazer. "They're in my back pocket." Tasha grinned.

"Then you get them." Patterson suggested, glancing at Tasha's gluteus maximus. In hope that she wouldn't make another comment like before.

Eventually, Tasha got the keys to Patterson, without any help. Their car ride was then after in silence, Tasha's hands on her stomach, but Patterson had gone through this enough times to know what it was. Every time that Tasha got really drunk and needed to use the bathroom she would start putting her hands on her stomach. Eventually, the cab left them in Tasha's apartment.

It took them a while to get to Tasha's place, the stairs really were the only cause of their delay. "I really have to go." Tasha kept mumbling into Patterson's ear, her soft warm breath hitting her neck. "Patterson, are you listening?" The drunken woman shouted in hope that her friend would say something.

"Yes, but would you mind lowering it down a little, you're going to wake up your neighbors."

"I don't really care." Tasha said louder. Patterson shook her head and exhaled in relief to see Tasha's door. She opened it quick with the jingling keys and noticed as Tasha purposefully hit the floor. She crawled to the bathroom nearby and shut the door loudly. Patterson took a seat on the couch, the way up there left her tired, too many stairs.

She looked around, Tasha's place look like it did last time, organized and clean, something she knew her place would never be. Being there before, she knew Tasha was good at hiding her stuff, her room being the messiest and closet even worse. Patterson had been there plenty of times, she knew where most things were by now, and where Tasha hid the good stuff. Patterson put her feet on the coffee table and waited for the door to open, but nothing. There was only an endless amount of flushing, but no sign of Tasha exiting the bathroom. "Tasha," Patterson said as she got up, "are you okay?" There wasn't any response, just another flush. "Hey." She knocked on the door, "You okay?"

"No." She barely heard through the door. Patterson opened the door a little and saw Tasha face down into the toilet bowl. She rushed to her side and the woman with the teary eyes glanced up to look at her. "You did this to me." She accused in a weak slumber.

Patterson lifted her shoulders up, "Me? You're the one who stole my fries."

"Yes, you." If you hadn't bought those fries for me, this wouldn't be happening." So she continued to puke into the toilet bowl. Patterson rushed over to hold Tasha's hair, but it was already in a ponytail from earlier in the night. Instead, she rubbed her back softly and watched as the woman below her puked continued to puke. "Are you going to stay the night?" Tasha asked as she grabbed the towel from the rack to clean her mouth.

"Of course, I'm not going to let you drown in your vomit if that's what you're worried about." Patterson flushed the vomit down, trying not to look at it much. Tasha grabbed Patterson's arm to pull herself up from the floor. It was then that Patterson noticed that Tasha's pants were undone and that she had some navy blue underwear. Tasha laughed as she washed her hands, looking at Patterson from the mirror. "What now?"

"Are you going to stay?" Tasha then grabbed her toothbrush and proceeded to take away the taste of vomit from her mouth.

"Yes, I already told you I would." Patterson quickly glanced at Tasha's visible underwear, but only for a second, so it technically didn't count. "The real question here is if you can zip and button up those pants."

Tasha spit into the sink, "What pants?"

"The ones you're wearing." _Is she really this drunk?_ Patterson then proceeded to point at Tasha's pants. Tasha got the zipper up but was having trouble with the button at the very top. "You need some help?" Patterson nonchalantly offered.

Tasha shrugged, but then said: "No, no. It's fine." Tasha opened the door and Patterson followed her out. "I don't think they'll fall." She got to the couch but missed it completely. _Fuck._

"You okay?" Patterson rushed to her side, once more. Tasha it seemed couldn't get up anymore, "You want to stay on the floor a little longer?" Tasha nodded accommodating herself the floor and Patterson. Patterson felt as Tasha placed the weight of her head on Patterson's thigh. "Ohh, okay." It was strange. Not having her head on her thigh, but Tasha doing so. She usually wasn't as touchy. She had no idea what she was doing or why she was doing it, but strangely enough, Patterson knew she didn't mind it. She grasped Patterson's hand, and she still didn't mind. With her free hand, she moved her fingers in a slow soothing motion, massaging Tasha's head. She wanted to run them down her dark curly, but she knew would have been a mess.

"You want to know something sad," She heard Tasha say, "I don't think I can remember the last time I went more than a day without being sad." The confession was a little heartbreaking and she felt like she could also relate.

Patterson stuttered, "Me too..." Tasha moved slightly, finally facing Patterson. Her blue eyes didn't seem to be so blue in the darkness of her house, but she could tell that Patterson was doing that thing again, the whole looking at her with concern and worry. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

Tasha smiled, "Like you're worried, or like you actually care. Like you want to know what's wrong. You look at me like a lost puppy." Patterson could tell Tasha was getting frustrated, "You look at me with pity." She could tell, by the tone of her voice that she was mad, but at last, she was letting all her emotions out. "I don't do that with you."

Patterson shook her head, "Maybe I do look at you with concern or something else, but not pity." Her thumb began to softly caress her temple, and slowly moved down to her jawline. Tasha felt her smooth fingers traced her face. Tasha still holding on to Patterson's hand gave it a squeeze and then with her other hand carefully traced it with her fingers. Patterson knew what she was doing, but she wasn't sure Tasha did. After all, she had just been puking her guts out into the toilet. She didn't know if Tasha was there or Tasha plus the alcohol. "Tash, I think you need to get some sleep."

"No." She begged as she cupped Patterson's face.

Patterson gulped hard, afraid that Tasha might have heard it also. "Tasha..." She put her hand over Tasha's, pulling it off, taking her affection away. But Tasha pulled her in close, their faces only a few centimeter away. Patterson was fighting the temptation away and liberated herself from Tasha's grip. "It's my fault, but I don't think we should do this right now. You're drunk, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to."

She groaned, and whispered, "Fine," more to herself, than to Patterson.

Tasha got up from, leaving a cool breeze fill where Tasha's body once was. The absence of Tasha made a chill run through Patterson. Everything happened so quickly all Patterson could think of was ask Tasha to talk about it for breakfast. "Okay." She heard Tasha through her teeth, "Night." She sounded so cold. Tasha was the worse at hiding her emotions, and through her words were filled with disdain, Patterson knew not to take them too seriously. Patterson saw as Tasha disappeared into the darkness, and something inside her made her think about what just happened and whether or not she had made the right choice. The door slamming answered her question.

AN: Let me know what you think.


	3. Still A Mistake

It was the next day in the morning and the bright morning sun was barely creeping in through the window's blinds. In a few minutes the sun would be blazing in through each of the tiny spaces between each blind. Patterson didn't feel like getting up, and she had so many reasons to not want to, what occurred with Tasha being the biggest. Instead, she grasped her phone from the floor and skimmed through the latest news. None of the headlines grasped her attention, after all, it was Saturday morning, probably the lamest day for the media.

So she sat there and played endless amounts of games, from the popular free ones to the ones that she had to pay a ten dollar subscription fee every month. She kept playing and checking the time, wondering if Tasha, or better yet Zapata, was to be heard. Soon enough it was eight in the morning and the morning hot sun was bothering her. Enough that Patterson got up from the couch, covered her bare torso with her arms and then put on her shirt. She swallowed a laugh, the thought of Tasha entering the living room and seeing her without a shirt made its way into her mind.

Waiting a little longer for Tasha to walk in she decided to get off the couch and check in on her, it was very unusual that Tasha would still be asleep, she was an early bird. Hence the early breakfasts on the weekends in Sam's Diner or La Rosita Bella Bakery. Anxious to know what was keeping her from making an appearance Patterson walked herself down the hall. She glanced to the side and saw the bathroom in which Tasha was puking in last night, but it was dark and missing Tasha's presence.

As she got closer to the room she felt her anxiety continue to increase more and more. There were so many things running through her mind, and for the first time, in a really long time, she was scared. Not sure if to knock or simply open the door, she paused. Patterson felt the little droplets of sweat forming on her forehead and she was so unsure of what to do. Patterson bit her bottom lip and lightly knocked. Part of her was petrified to see a furious Tasha. She knocked once more, and then waited for the door to open, but nothing.

Tired of waiting, Patterson swung the door wide open. "Tasha?" She questioned as she looked into a vacant room and empty bed with sheets that had been slept in. Patterson took a step closer, and put her hand on top of the sheets, thinking that maybe there would be some warmth to them, but there was none. It was then that she came to the conclusion that Tasha gone, and that only made things worse. Tasha's absence didn't give her tachycardia, but rather the thought of not ever being able to find her.

Patterson knew that it was stupid to look for her around the city, so she ran back to the living room in search of her cell phone from where she sent Tasha various text messages.

 **Patterson: So, I'm at your house, but where are you?**

 **Patterson: Tasha… Please answer me.**

 **Patterson: Are you okay?**

Various minutes later.

 **Patterson: An answer would be nice.**

Patterson's eyes didn't leave the screen. She had glared at many screens before, with millions of pixels and information, but never had she looked into a screen with such intensity like she did with her cell phone while waiting for a certain someone to reply. Patterson knew why she was acting the way she was, and she didn't like it one bit. Every second that went by was another moment of not knowing if Tasha was safe. And not knowing if Tasha was safe resulted in her fabricating theories of what were Tasha's whereabouts. The theories Patterson was coming up with were not healthy ones, and she hated herself for it. "Tasha..." Her name slipped out of her mouth when she heard that obnoxious ding, that at the moment sounded like glory.

 **Tasha: I'm at Sam's. Be there in a bit.**

Patterson scoffed in disgrace, Tasha left without telling her. She crossed her arms and sat on the couch, now she was the one who was mad, all that worry for nothing. She knew Tasha could have sent her a text or simply could have told where she was heading before leaving to go get food. Patterson could have gone out to breakfast with her too, but no. Patterson grabbed her phone, analyzed Tasha's message a bit longer and then decided to play a game, instead of tormenting herself with something that she could not change. With her thumbs, she took out all the anger filling her body.

She was playing her favorite game when she heard the door open swing open. She paused for a second, and instead of looking up to greet her friend (almost kissing buddy) she continued to nonchalantly play her game. It was hard to ignore such presence, but she knew that if she addressed it, it would result in some awkward conversation. After a few agonizing seconds, Patterson glanced up to see if Tasha was still there, but she wasn't. Somehow it stirred a sort of relief and regret, but she knew that she would get over.

Tasha was keeping herself busy with setting up breakfast. She kept looking around the kitchen for some plates, the ones she never used, the ones spent nearly one hundred dollars, and finally would be giving some use. Tasha was glad that no words nor glances had been exchanged by her nor Patterson. She knew things got awkward last night and like a few other things, she was not ready to pull it out of the closet just yet. Some things, most things, to her, were better kept quiet. Finally, finding the plates she was looking for, she almost dropped them in hope to only take two. Once setting them on the counter she peacefully decorating each plate with its corresponding food. From the corner of her eye, she noticed how her companion from the night before directed herself to the breakfast bar. "Shit," Tasha spoke out loud to herself. "I forgot to ask for syrup." She added, trying to cover her slip up.

"You also forgot to tell me you were leaving." Patterson immediately covered her mouth and cursed for that slipping out of her mouth. She sincerely only intended that to stay in her head, but it was too late. Not knowing what to do, she glanced back down at the game she was playing and continued to frantically move her thumbs. She couldn't see it, but she knew Tasha was giving her that look, the one in which burned her alive. The one that said: _Are you fucking shitting me, Patterson?_ Patterson hated that look.

"Really?" Tasha blurted out a little too sarcastically. "Sorry, I didn't want to wake sleeping beauty up." She continued to place food on the plates, her moves seeming a little more choppy and abrupt. Patterson noticed that the woman before her, the one in sweatpants and a black sweatshirt, breathed in and out quite loudly. She was mad.

"Still." Patterson defended herself. "I thought I was making breakfast."

"Hmm… Yeah, I don't remember you saying that last night." Patterson turned off her phone when she realized that Tasha had remembered last night. "That's actually kind of funny, you making food, but I already bought this, so we're good." There was so much sass and disdain. She gave Patterson her plate and set hers next to Patterson's. "And if making breakfast was your intention, you weren't really clear about it last night." She turned around, giving Patterson her back, not sure if she could be face to face when she spoke the following: "You weren't clear about a lot of things last night." Patterson felt as her heart dropped. Tasha shook her head and opened the fridge, "Milk, OJ or Coffee… Nevermind." She threw out the carton of milk. "OJ or Coffee?"

Patterson couldn't help herself, but to run her gaze down Tasha's body and have it linger a while over her ass. "I don't trust store bought coffee, orange juice...Please." She composed without really thinking about it, her attention being somewhere else. Though Tasha was turned around, Patterson could clearly see her rolling her eyes to her response, and it was then clear that she knew Tasha more than she thought she did. Tasha finally turned around, brought their glasses over, and sat next to Patterson. Patterson did her best to eat her food, after all, it had been from one of her favorite breakfast places. Yet, the constant stabbing of food, coming from Tasha's direction made it very difficult to eat in peace. Frankly, all she wanted to do was eat her eggs in peace. "Okay. What's wrong now?"

Tasha looked over at her, she took a breath, and then another before she could say anything. Knowing herself, if she didn't take the time to take a breather her response wouldn't have been as civil. "Nothing. I'm just hungover. That's probably it. Yeah." She sounded so disappointed.

Patterson dropped her fork and looked over at her. "You sure?" Patterson asked in hope of getting something else out of her.

"Yeah." She nodded, not being able to handle glancing at Patterson for more than a second. Tasha could feel Patterson's stare piercing through her body, so there wasn't a difference is she looked up or not.

Patterson couldn't continue to eat, not with all the bad vibes Tasha kept giving off. They were already half done with their meal and Tasha didn't look at her once, her eyes glued to her plate and her voice sounding nothing like it usually was. Patterson didn't want to mess things up between them, but given her situation, at the moment, they couldn't get much worse. She cleared her throat and moved the few strands of hair to the side. "Is it what happened last night?" Tasha froze. She stopped chewing and her body got so stiff. Patterson bit her lip watching as Tasha reacted to her words. "I- I'm sorry if I made things weird." Her vocals sounded so strained, but there was no hiding of her raw emotions as well as intentions.

"Noo… It's fine." She managed to say and then forced a half smile, not being capable of the whole thing.

Patterson wanted her to say something else, she wanted her to bring up the kiss. She somehow secretly urged for that confrontation. "You sure?"

"Yeah..." She then turned her chair to look at Patterson. Her soft brown eyes, her warm cheeks, her pink tender lips, finally being visible to Patterson from another angle. "Do you have something else to say?"

Patterson nodded. "Yeah, I do." Tasha could sense that Patterson was nervous. There something in the way that her cheeks glowed and the minuscule droplets of sweat that formed on her forehead, or at least what was visible of it. What really seemed to give off that Patterson was nervous was the way she promptly continued to move in the chair; side to side in a nauseous rhythm. "I thought you were going to kiss me, you know, last night."

"Funny, I also thought that I was going to kiss you." Patterson shut her eyes closed realizing that she might have made a mistake trying to prevent what she thought would have been a mistake. Realizing that Patterson had nothing to say, Tasha continued, she cleared her throat, her voice sounding a little less than raspy before. "Why did you stop me? Why didn't you want to kiss me?"

"I-" Patterson paused, she didn't want to say the first thing that came to mind, she actually wanted to think it through. There was brief silence, but finally, she had an answer. "I didn't want to take advantage of you, Tash. You had just been vomiting your guts out. How was I supposed to know you wouldn't regret it in the morning. I just didn't want to hurt you. You mean too much to me, Tash."

Patterson offered her a long warm smile. But Tasha wasn't smiling, she was trying her best to hold in her tears, the ones that in any second would start streaming down her face. Unlike the beliefs she held about people, Patterson cared about her. The dorky woman who loved puzzles, Patterson, cared about her. Someone finally cared about her. Tasha was about to lose it. Patterson got off of her seat, making the gap of space between them even smaller. "Tasha." her thumbs quickly wiped her tears away from her zygomatic arch as if they windshield wipers. "No, please don't cry."

Tasha sniffled and wiped her eyes a bit, and then proceeded into burying her head into Patterson's chest. Patterson, not knowing what to do, took her into her embrace. Her fingers moved in tiny circles on Tasha's back, and as she tried to focus on her _sollozos_ she got distracted by how small Tasha's frame really was. The thinness of her sweater allowed for Patterson to feel every vertebra under her fingers. Patterson couldn't help but think that Tasha needed to eat a little more. It was when Tasha was trying to suffocate her cries and not try to bring much attention to herself, that jump started Patterson back into reality and detached her from her thoughts. Patterson gently pressed her head into her chest a bit more. "It's okay, let it all out." She could cry, she could yell, and just like the previous night at the bar, she would still be there. Her fingers gently massaged Tasha's scalp, in hope that it would sooth her.

It was shortly after, that Tasha sniffled before she lifted her head, then their eyes were interlocked for a while. Patterson's royal sky blue eyes, and Tasha's glossed dark marble eyes. Tasha felt she was making a scene, so she took a step back, away from Patterson and her touch. She took the tar black sleeve of her sweater and wiped her face a bit more, but all it did was make her sensitive skin more irritated. Everything felt so wrong, usually when she cried she hid, prohibiting anyone from looking at her in such a vulnerable state or from looking at the tears she rained. She learned to hide because all anyone did was scream at her, say hurtful things, ignore her and on occasion give her something to actually cry about. "Tasha, you okay?

"I'm sorry," Tasha begged as she tried to put her hair into a ponytail, but after skimming her wrist a few times, she noticed that the hair tie was gone. It was hopeless she would just have to live with her messy wavy hair. She continued to rub her eyes with her sleeve, "I probably look like a mess."

"No, don't say that." Patterson grabbed her sleeve, her fingertips touching Tasha's the sensation rather wild, though it wasn't something new. "You're making it worse," Patterson said referring to the rubbing of her eyes. "No, don't apologize." She grabbed her wrist, "I wanted to kiss you, too." Patterson tried to sedate the smile on her face, but there was just no way of doing so. "I really wanted to kiss you."

Tasha Zapata lifted her lips a little, but she was not smiling , or at least that's what she told herself. "Why didn't you?" Tasha asked.

Patterson laughed, "Because you were drunk, have you not been listening to what I've been saying?" The shy white girl scratched her head a little and then glanced at Tasha with gleaming eyes, "I really wanted to kiss you..." She took a breath. "It took so much of me last night not to." Patterson bit her lip and lingered her eyes on Tasha a little while longer. She felt as Tasha pulled her in closer until Patterson's hands then claimed her hips and her possessive stare ran through her body. Both of their hearts were pacing fast and seemed to never cease a single beat. Patterson moved Tasha's hair to the side and without much warning the other woman lunged over to kiss her. Patterson let her claim her lips rather easily, quickly falling in love with the way that their lips felt against one another. In love with the passion that Tasha displayed whilst biting into her inferior lip. Tasha was lost in the moment; in the kiss. So lost in the movement of their lips

When their lips finally parted, Tasha glanced at Patterson wide-eyed, she had just kissed Patterson. Patterson who had not had enough with the first kiss leaned in for another, but received only rejection. Tasha didn't even look at her but advanced to move a few steps away. "This is a mistake."

"No, it's not. I waited until you weren't drunk. This is real." Patterson was confused.

Tasha shook her head. "Patterson, we work together." She scoffed, "You really think anything beyond this will be easy?"

"Ta-," Patterson couldn't believe Tasha was doing this. She wasn't going to cry, she didn't cry. Instead, she put on one of those emotional armor suits. "Well, then why do it? Why kiss me?"

Tasha was hated herself for what she was going to say next, but she felt like it was what she needed to do. "I got caught up in the moment." She seemed too tranquil for what was happening, and something told her that maybe Tasha was also trying to put her feelings to the side. Patterson knew she would fight for her, no mistake tasted so splendid.

Patterson nodded, "Drunk or not. You still think this is a mistake. I get it. I guess I was just reading a little too much into the glances at work, reading a little too much into the conversations, reading a little too much into the way you'd brush your shoulder against mine." Patterson grabbed her phone, the one next to her half eaten plate of breakfast. "Goodbye, Zapata." It was Patterson's turn to slam the door.

AN:

Okay, I'm really excited about this FF and where it's going, I'm l 2/3 done with the chapter outlines. BTW Chapters 1-3 are all supposed to be one chapter. I don't know if I should edit the FF so that it is one whole chapter or to just leave it as is. What do you guys think? Hopefully chapter 2 or the first part of chapter 2 will be posted by this time next week. I have a lot of assignments for a class. :( Thank you so much for those of you who have commented, it is really greatly appreciated. Let me know what you think :) 


	4. Avoidance and Glances And smiles?

Tasha was wearing the usual dark forest green suit, she had worn to work dozen times. She could have worn something completely different, like the outfit she was dying to try out. Yet, she didn't and all because she didn't want to bring attention to herself, especially Tasha's. Her wavy strong hair was down arranged her usual style. The watch on her wrist marked 8:53. There was no doubt that Patterson was already in her lab with all the techs and interns. _Hopefully, Patterson's busy enough, that she won't notice me._

She breathed in and she breathed out, her chest rising and falling. Breathing was such a simple process which required no consciousness, but lately, it felt like an impossible task. The elevator ride was almost over, and pretty soon she knew that she would hear the ding. Her soft lips pressed against each other. _Fuck._ Tasha cursed. She didn't want to see Patterson, she didn't want to talk about it, and she wanted nothing to do with it― the kiss.

The ding was loud and sharp and as the doors opened her stomach dropped. It became hard to breathe, and the cause of it was Patterson. Patterson was looking right at her, her bright silver blue eyes piercing as ever. The genius agent was her drinking buddy from Friday night, but now instead of a glass filled with alcohol she was holding a tablet, setting up things for the morning briefing. Tasha tried to look away, but it just didn't happen, it didn't work. So she kept looking at her, watching as she put the tablet down and began to walk over towards her.

But Tasha rushed to her desk, with her hand covering the side of her face, making it pretty obvious that she was avoiding her. She sat down on her seat and brought a few strands of hair to cover her face. Tasha presses the keys with her fingers, viciously tapping them in hope that her screen will light up, but the computer is slow like always. So she stares at the pitch black screen pretending it's on. Patterson is there, she can feel her presence and from the corner of her eye see more than her shadow.

"Tasha," Patterson says, her tender and unique voice. Tasha, but she doesn't. She remains silent and watches as the log-in finally pops up. Tasha begins to tap at the keys "Umm, Tasha?"

"Uhh, Not now. I really have to finish this, Patterson." She continues to efficiently log in. The screen glows a blazing blue and white and the computer's hymn is loud and clear. Tasha eternally curses inside.

Patterson does that awkward thing with her face, the one where she purses her lips and nods. She didn't say anything more but decides to leave things as they are. It was clear as water, clear as day, the woman who had kissed her (Patterson) had no interest in talking.

For Tasha, it was hard to watch Patterson leave. It left her with millions of feelings stirring around in her chest, and the more she tried to identify and make sense of the feelings inside of her the more confusing everything became. She was lost and perplexed by what was rising to the surface. Did she want Patterson? Did Patterson want her? Why was it so hard for her to talk to Patterson? Was it all because of the kiss or the night? Was it the drinks? Did she have these feelings before? She wasn't sure about those questions quite yet, she just knew that she was being a jerk.

Tasha fought not to look up at Patterson, but it was pretty much hopeless. The spectacular noun that was Patterson has turned away, and not being caught by the _mujer risueña_ made it easy for her to sneak a peek.

She tried to look busy, she clicked around on the computer, wishfully thinking that Reade or Kurt would walk in any moment soon. But then the thought that Patterson could basically override any computer in the world, entered. It obviously made her paranoid and messed with her thought processes. She was being paranoid, of course, Patterson wasn't looking at her screen. Not being able to help it, she turned slightly, and she caught a glimpse of Patterson tapping away at the mini screen in front of her.

The buff men in suits walk in and they are filled with grace and laughter. There was some game over the weekend and like usual they were thoroughly discussing the details of it. They approach Patterson, Tasha behind Kurt and Reade. They stop and glance up at Patterson, and turn back at Tasha. That's when the frenzy begins, and the sport-fanatic-gal is attacked with questions. "Wait. So you didn't watch the game?" Reade asked perplexed.

Tasha nodded, "How many times do I have to tell you?" Tasha glared at him, "I was busy, having a life."

Kurt was about to interfere in the conversation, when Reade blurted, "Were you on a date with slim shady or homeboy?"

Tasha placed both hands over here face, she didn't know why Reade couldn't let things be. She lifted her head up, her eyes unintentionally connecting with Patterson's for less than a second. It was Patterson's presence that made her feel like she had to say something in regards to Reade's comment. Not to clear things up between her and Reade, but Patterson. "No. I just wasn't home to catch the game."

"You, guys, please," Kurt said trying to focus the attention on their work as opposed to the game on Sunday night. "Tasha, I'm sorry you didn't catch the game. But we have bigger issues here, right Patterson."

"Yeah, bigger issues." Patterson delivered to Tasha only, but everyone else just happened to be there also.

Tasha tried her best not to eat Patterson up with her eyes. First, she would look at the floor, then maybe the ceiling, and then eventually Patterson, but not for a moment too long. She didn't want Patterson getting ideas, even though she had every right to. So far it was working, and any variation of eye contact had been avoided.

When she heard Kurt's voice, her head automatically turned to face him. She watched his lips move, but she was lost in her own mind. The thoughts of what Patterson was thinking crowded inside her head. "You listing, Tasha?" Kurt asked.

She nodded, "Of course." She responded, hoping that she didn't miss anything vital. She grasped onto the hem of her dark forest green blazer, her grip numbing. She really needed to focus.

Kurt finished up and gave them their assignments. He decided that it was best if they broke up into three. He would go get the footage from the hotel, Patterson would stay and check for any possible updates on the location of Gris, Reade would look and talk to Lorne Gris, and Tasha would check Gris' storage unit for anything useful. As soon as everyone was dismissed, Kurt and Reade headed out to the elevators. Tasha watched them leave, avoiding the beautiful woman behind her.

"Hey," She felt as Patterson grabbed her arm, "can we talk?" Patterson asked Tasha. Her grip was gentle, but also certain.

"Ohh, Hey," Tasha said, she said to the floor.

"Can we talk?" It seemed like Tasha's eyes were glued, so Patterson reached for Tasha's chin, but Tasha negated herself the touch of Patterson. Instead, she glared at her with drilling eyes. "Tasha, please don't make this difficult," Patterson said under her breath.

Tasha shrugged, her shoulders rising an inch and her expression uncertain. "I have to go check out the storage unit, please, Patterson. We talk later."

Patterson closed her eyes in frustration. "You have time, Tasha. I'm not dumb. I know how long it takes to get a warrant." Patterson took a step closer, but then a step back only seconds later. She should have known better, then to stand so close to Tasha at work, in the middle of it all.

Her eyes opened wide, and then a smile lifted her cheeks up. Tasha blessed the buzzing sound coming from her pocket. She pulled out her phone and on her screen was the image of the warrant for the storage unit. Tasha cleared her throat. "I guess you don't know everything, Patterson." She slid the phone back into her pocket and headed her way out.

There, still standing, was Patterson. She had her tablet in her hand and a bunch words stuck to her tongue. Sunday morning was crazy, but she liked it, and she wasn't going to run away from what she felt. Not months after feeling like she would never feel such extravagant sensations inside her again. They had lived such painful days not long ago, that she feared that she would become numb to the pain and happiness. She feared becoming numb to the happiness the most, but the night she had Tasha's head on her lap, and the morning she had Tasha's lips on her lips, her hypothesis of what would become her life was proved wrong.

 _What if she's the one that never leaves?_

Patterson brought the tablet up and saw how her fingers were clenching on. So she went back to her lab, sat in that black chair and diffused herself into that world of putting things together. Inductive and deductive reasoning, after all, this was what she lived for. The numbers on the screen the, algorithms, the codes, the syncing of things, this was what kept her going. No one kept her going, but herself and her own willpower (and the antidepressants but those are just pills).

Her fingers quickly skimmed the keyboard, her eyes skimmed across the screen, looking for a picture that might get them somewhere or at least help the team out a little bit. It was often that she would worry about the team, especially because of what she had experienced out on the field. Their jobs were difficult and dangerous, and too many times she had been close to losing them, every single one of them.

She knew that the case they were working on today wasn't as dangerous. For starters, it didn't have to do with anything related to Jane. Also, they went their separate ways, which always indicated a light case. It wasn't as exciting, so she wasn't on the edge of her seat like with the tattoos. Too many times had something gone wrong with those.

Yet, knowing that there was a serial rapist/murderer out there managed to keep her on her feet.

She heard a ding, and glanced down, it was someone from the group message.

 **Group chat: Doe, Kurt, Patterson, Reade, Zapata**

 **Zapata: There's only like a few receipts, but they're all faded. What should I do?**

Patterson wanted to tell Tasha to come back to the lab so that they could talk about the kiss, but the group chat wasn't the time or place.

 **Reade: Damn… Tasha. Are You trying to win? How long did it take to get that warrant? You got connections?**

The blonde genius smiled.

 **Zapata: You mad, Reade?**

 **Kurt: Well, you can head back. It seems like I might be stuck in his apartment a while.**

 **Reade: Same.**

Patterson smiled, "Ohh my." She brought her phone to her chest. Tasha was coming home, and she had time to spare. With Patterson's determination, she was going to get her to talk.

"What?" One of the female techs asked worried, "Something happen?" The intern left the hard drive on the desk in front of Patterson. "Don't tell me something bad happened. What happened? Is it bad?" The woman was worried.

Patterson laughed, "No, no, no." she looked down at her phone, "Everything's fine." She said with a decorated smile on her face. "Great, actually."

"Okay," the tech continued to look at her, "let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Always." Patterson swore.

The tech took a few steps closer, "You sure?"

"Positive, Katie." Patterson assured.

The tech, Katie, grabbed the hard drive and continued her way. Patterson reminded herself to be careful with her emotions. She didn't need anyone else knowing her business, much less the people she worked with that weren't a short-tan-sexy-Latina named Tasha Zapata. Zapata was the only one she wanted knowing her business.


	5. Ohh Okay

Looking at the clip, the video streamed from the cameras at the Downtown Spec Storage Units and Lockers, Patterson kept her eyes wide open in search of the face of the criminal. Her hand grasped the mouse tightly and she kept scrolling, moving across all the feed from the last day and a half to what was currently being captured. In one of the shots, she saw Tasha doing that little power walk out the door. Patterson scrolled back and watched as her favorite agent made an exit through the door. Once wasn't enough, she had to do it again. This time she focused her attention and tried to catch a glimpse of her buttocks, but unfortunately, Tasha's blazer was covering it. If it hadn't been for the crazy New York weather that they had been having lately, maybe Patterson would have esneaked a peek.

Working was harder than before, it was also boring compared to when the lovely Jane Doe was present, as well as her tattoos. It was a slow day for everyone, Patterson, and Tasha especially, not because of the kiss, but because there was nothing for them to do. It was hard to transition from fast pacing cases to slow lagging ones.

Patterson's hands were quickly tapping away at the keyboard, playing a game on a slow day didn't hurt. She kept pressing the keys to the best of her ability hoping to strike all the little targets. "Ohh Tasha's back." She heard Katie say.

Her head turned quickly and her eyes analyzed Tasha walking out of the elevator. The moment she saw her step in the directions of her desk, Patterson left the game alone causing her to lose the level she was on. There was only one game Patterson wanted to win, and that was the love game. It was hard walking over to Tasha and saying her name, she was rejected once and she was fearful it would happen. She wanted Tasha to look at her, but she started doing that same thing she did earlier in the day. "Tasha, hey."

Tasha lifted her head from the computer screen, "Ohh, hey." The agent stood up from her chair, and Patterson walked up to her. It was awkward because they were standing a little too close for it to be business.

"Sorry." Patterson said taking a few steps back. She couldn't help, but giggle at her boldness. "Can we talk now?" She was having trouble reading Tasha. Her eyebrows were furrowed, but that was all, also the fact that she wasn't saying much. "Tasha." Patterson said with strained vocals. "Please."

Tasha crossed her arms. "I don't know about right now, Patterson."

"Stop doing that." Patterson pointed at her arms. "Quit the attitude." Patterson took a few steps forward to fill the large gap between them as best as she could. Their faces were so close, their bodies too, this was definitely not work related. Everyone else in the room was busy typing away or their faces deep into their work, hence why no one noticed the two agents standing so close. They were so freaking close that they both had a moment of silence to gather themselves together. "Stop acting like a child. If anyone should be acting out it should be me." Her hushed voice was so mesmerizing, and Tasha was only able to catch the last part.

She could tell Tasha was intimidated by the little distance between them and the words she had just thrown out there. Tasha took a step back, but this time Patterson did not follow. Maybe stepping in a little to close and basically whispering to her eat was a bad idea, but if anything, it was worth getting a whiff of Tasha. "Okay, okay, okay… but later. Just, not here."

There was something in the way that Tasha looked at Patterson that caused stomach drop. Patterson put both hands on both sides of her face. "Are you scared?" Patterson blurted, "Am I pushing too hard?" Patterson gasped. "I am. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make a big deal about it. I mean it is, but I just-"

"It's fine." Tasha tried to smile. "Lunch?" Patterson had no idea why Tasha thought it was necessary for her to ask that it was obvious that she was anxious to talk.

Patterson smiled at her, "Yes that would be great."

Tasha nodded, "Then let's go."

"Now? Don't you usually take your break after noon?" Patterson asked.

She motions Patterson to follow as she leads the way. "Yes, now." They walk together in sync to the elevator, Tasha presses the button, looks at Patterson, and can't help it. She smiles at the woman next to her, blaming her thoughts and active mind. "Looks like you're finally going to leave these four walls."

Patterson agrees with the agent who spends most of her time outside the building in an action-packed adventure, risking her life to catch some of the worst people out there. Patterson hates the danger they face, but tells herself that they are better trained, and reminds herself that her experiences out are only unique to her. "Looks like you're going on the safest mission in your life."

Tasha steps in first, she waits for Patterson to step in and then quickly pressed the button. "Operation torpedo?"

Patterson takes a few steps and corners herself on the back right corner of the elevator, "Only if it has cheese." She notices how nods at her comment, a smile on her face ―the one where you could see her teeth, that was a rare one and joy in her eyes. _That's how it always should be._ Patterson tells herself.

Once they're at the sandwich shop, Tasha is busy looking at her phone and at the menu. Too many options, but she fingers something out. Patterson patiently waits for Tasha to decide, after all, she did forget her wallet at work and Tasha did offer to pay.

It had been a few minutes and they let a few people cut in front of them. "I just don't know what to get." Tasha says looking down at her phone. "There's so many options." She looks at Patterson who is looking right back. "What are you getting?"

"The Marino's Panini at Sea." Patterson answers concentrating on Tasha's eyes, and not her chest. She would never look at her chest, not even if she noticed that one of her tops buttons was undone. No, actually she was just looking at her neck and the collar of her shirt. _Tasha's birthmark, fuck._ "Wh- Why?" Patterson notices the smirk on Tasha's lips and smiles awkwardly. "Yep, it's great." She replied, not really talking about the Panini, but the obvious. "You should get it."

They step up to order, Tasha getting two Marino's Panini at Sea for them and a Meat King for Reade. Taking her blue card out to pay, Tasha adds, "Could I get them all to go, please."

"Sure." The man replies.

They step aside and get in line to pick up their order at the window. There weren't many people there. Mostly because the lunch rush was around one, and it was only eleven seventeen. Tasha noticed how Patterson kept glaring at her. "What?"

"To go?" Patterson asked.

Tasha then knew what all the glaring was about. She turned to face Patterson, "Yeah, so we can take Reade's sandwich to him."

"We could have done that after eating… and talking. Are you sure it wasn't a tactic just to avoid talking about the kiss." Patterson notices that when she said kiss, Tasha whipped her head to the side not being able to bear looking at her.

A man at the window said their order number while holding a white bag filled with sandwiches.

Tasha steps up and get the bag. Not waiting for Patterson to keep up she heads outside to walk her way back. Patterson knew what she was doing, avoiding, again. She didn't like it, and was ready to confront her, but Tasha was so fast, and she didn't feel like running. "Tasha, wait up." She turned around and saw Patterson, but instead of slowing down she motioned her to come, and continued at the same pace, maybe even a faster one.

Rushing into the elevator, Patterson sighed to catch her breath. "Fuck, that was three blocks."

Tasha felt bad, but at the same time, she felt good having dodged such a horrendous conversation with Patterson. Tasha watched as Patterson's chest rose and fell, the girl was agitated. "Sorry." She said to Patterson.

"No," Patterson said. They were already five floors up, and Tasha was wishing there was less, and Patterson was wishing there was more. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. You just don't understand that I want things left alone." Tasha had her arms again, and it was getting old now, well for Patterson.

Patterson took a step forward, "Can't we be civil? I'm being civil, you're acting out. It should be me who should be acting out, not you. I came here thinking there was a chance for us to clear things up, maybe move on or I don't know talk about it at least, but you won't even put an effort to do that." Patterson could not believe that was coming out of her mouth. "But instead you're trying to do everything you can to avoid it, and in the worst way possible too. I hate running, and that's what you had me doing for who knows how long."

Tasha wasn't saying anything, she just kept alternating between looking at Patterson and not at Patterson. Her stare was blank so there was no way of knowing what she was thinking. Her body was stiff, all contrary to Patterson.

"I loved that kiss," Patterson said. "I loved that kiss so much. It was-" Patterson was out of words, but the expression on her face said it all. "It was perfect and I love it so much. It was fresh and energizing." She took a breath. "It meant a lot, especially because-" She noticed as Tasha turned her head away, facing the corner adjacent to where she was standing. "Okay…" Patterson said, her words dry and stone cold. "You really don't care."

Before Tasha could say anything, there was a ding, and her words got stuck in her mouth. All Tasha did be watch Patterson leave after the doors opened. Baffled by what happened, it was the door starting to close that caused her to recollect herself. She walked out and Weller and Reade were staring at the bag in her hand. Reade then asked "You run here?" Patterson had the biggest grin on her face, but Tasha couldn't see it because she was still pretty far back. Tasha lifted her shoulders, not sure what to say.

"Yeah, we did." Patterson said for Tasha.

"You went out?" Reade said faking to be applaud.

"I went with Tasha, I needed a walk or run. You know, this case is pretty slow, so… yeah." Patterson looked over to Tasha, "Kurt can have Panini, I'm actually not that hungry anymore."

"You sure?" Kurt questioned.

"Ohh yeah, definitely. I just wanted to go outside, but this one kept insisting." She said smiling at the boss. "Yeah…I'll be in my lab." Patterson excused herself, leaving them all standing in a circle. Tasha had no idea that Patterson was such a good liar.


End file.
